


Just Another Day

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Encephalitis the Dog, M/M, cosy festiveness, shameless fluff please excuse me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5501702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the hannigramholidayexchange. Will starts to get used to not spending Christmas alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> a sweet and seasonal gift for dragons-and-chocolate, for the hannigramholidayexchange.
> 
> happy holidays! unfortunately due to rl interference it’s not as long as I originally planned, but I hope you like it anyway! :)

Will was used to spending Christmas alone. It had never bothered him; it was just another day, after all. He always tried to avoid thinking about it too hard. Usually it was easy – he’d go for long walks with his dogs, scuffing through the snow and breathing in the crisp, cold air. The sky would darken and they’d eventually head back towards the warm glow of the windows, beacons in the night.

He sometimes thought of getting a tree, but there was little point to that when nobody would see it. Trees were something families did.

 

-

 

Their first Christmas was the strangest.

It was summer, for one thing, and the date hadn’t even occurred to him until Hannibal had slipped his arms around Will’s waist and said “Merry Christmas,” softly against his neck. He’d frozen and stared out of the window, fixing his gaze somewhere in the distance.

“I didn’t realise,” he’d said, and his throat felt tight and he couldn’t work out why.

“I’d gathered,” was all Hannibal had said with mild amusement, hands solid and warm against Will’s stomach.

“I didn’t get you anything,” is all he could think to say. The orange trees outside the window swayed in a breeze, and he was suddenly aware of the cool tiles beneath his bare feet, and Hannibal’s breath on his neck.

“I do hate to sound trite,” Hannibal had said as he pulled back slightly, “but I have everything I want already.”

He’d swallowed and reached down to grip Hannibal’s hands as they rested against him.

“I don’t know how you can say that so easily.” It came out more bitterly than he had intended.

And he’d felt Hannibal smile against his neck.

 

-

 

By next December, they had moved on. This time, Will didn’t forget. Thick, glittering snow covered the forest, and the sunlight was fading fast as he dragged a tree back towards their cabin. The lights inside glowed gently, and a quiet surge of emotion hit him. He wasn’t even sure how long they’d be here, but somehow it felt like home. It felt like somewhere he would be sad to leave. He paused to catch his breath, letting the tree drop into the soft snow, rolling his shoulders to try and ease the ache. Even a couple of years later, his shoulder didn’t like to let him forget. Not that he could, with such scars. Not that he’d want to. Hannibal liked to kiss each of his scars as though they were precious, trace them with his tongue, eyes burning. The wind lashed freezing upon his heated face, and glancing up to the sky showed the gathering clouds. There would be more snow tonight. He gritted his teeth and reached down for the tree.

 

When Will finally arrived back at the cabin, it seemed strangely still and quiet within. The fire still crackled gently in the hearth, warm light and shadows moving over the walls as he dragged the tree in. He had, he realised as he secured it in its stand, completely forgotten about ornaments. And while a plain tree was certainly a step up from no tree, it was hardly particularly festive. He took a step back and stared at it, thinking maybe it had been a mistake after all. Hannibal hadn’t mentioned wanting one, but the idea had been stuck in Will’s mind for the past week. Well, it was done now.

 

Suddenly the front door clicked open again and a whirl of black came bounding into the room. He turned in surprised and dropped to his knees grinning as the dog, a schnauzer by the look of it, jumped up at him, barking happily.

“He’s quite energetic,” Hannibal remarked from the doorway, removing his gloves and coat casually as though bringing home a dog was something he did every day..

“He’s beautiful,” Will murmured, and the dog peered up at him from beneath bushy eyebrows. “Is he…”

“Yours? Yes,” Hannibal moved to sit on the sofa, one arm stretched along the back.

“I was going to say ‘ours’, actually. He seems rather fond of you already.” At that the dog leapt up onto the sofa and sat staring up at Hannibal expectantly.

“Ours, then.” His tone didn’t give anything away, but Will could tell by the slight curve of his mouth he was pleased.

“So did he come with a name?”

Hannibal reached down to scratch the dog behind his ears. Then after only the slightest of pauses, “Encephalitis.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “Please tell me that’s a joke, albeit in incredibly poor taste.”

“Only slightly.”

“Only slightly a joke, or only slightly poor taste?”

“Well, it’s in very poor taste, don’t you think?”

Will stood and gathered up the dog into his arms – _not_ Encephalitis, he thought firmly, and sat heavily beside Hannibal, letting the dog settle between them.

“While I’m flattered you think I’d manage to find such a perfectly named dog, I’m afraid this was the closest they had.” Hannibal’s smile was very sharp

Will tried not to laugh, “you mean this is the one that liked you best.”

“Phil is a very clever dog.” Hannibal looked mildly offended, and then Will couldn’t help but laugh.

 

For the next few minutes there was silence except for the crackling of the fire, and Phil seemed quite content to go to sleep with his head in Will’s lap. It suddenly struck him that he felt… content. He shifted slightly to lean against Hannibal without disturbing the dog, and rested his head against Hannibal’s shoulder. Will felt a hand come up and gently stroke the hair from his forehead.

 

“Thank you,” he said abruptly, and his chest felt tight. Hannibal didn’t reply, just reached up with his other hand to tilt Will’s face toward him. Will wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that look in his eyes, warm and full of an emotion he’d at one point never thought Hannibal capable of.

 

He just murmured, “Merry Christmas,” and kissed Will softly.

 

The tree was still bare, but in that moment it didn’t matter at all – and Will realised he knew exactly what Hannibal had meant the previous year.


End file.
